


Save Me From Myself

by Lostinfantasies38



Series: For You I Could Be universe [3]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor speaks French, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, M/M, Maybe A Little OOC But I Don't Care, Protective Connor, Romantic Fluff, Social Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, evan deserves happiness, soft bois
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:13:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostinfantasies38/pseuds/Lostinfantasies38
Summary: Evan has a Bad Day and finds The Tree. He decides this is how everyone will be happy, until he realizes he made a mistake and reaches out to the one person he hopes will find him.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Series: For You I Could Be universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977364
Comments: 11
Kudos: 67





	Save Me From Myself

**Author's Note:**

> This is heavy on angst and feels. Grab your tissues and snuggle under a blanket with a comfort drink of choice. Please be careful if you are sensitive to suicidal tendencies.

**August 10th**

  
Some days were harder than others. Usually for no reason at all. It was just a fact of life; the unfortunate truth of his existence. Sure, it was probably like this for neurotypical people, too, but his moods didn’t come from “waking up on the wrong side of the bed.” No, his broken brain randomly dictated which days he would struggle more than usual; requiring a delicate touch to keep him from shattering like poorly tempered glass.

Evan knew when he woke up - weighed down, sluggish, _numb_ \- today belonged in the “Bad” realm. Throwing an arm over his eyes, he huffed in the oppressive silence. “Dear Evan Hansen, today will be a good day, and here’s why: you get to see Connor,” he muttered.

Thinking of his handsome boyfriend eased some of the heaviness pinning him to the mattress. Honestly, he much preferred Connor to press him into the bed, but things were not _immediately_ better for either of them simply because they had a supportive partner now. Though it definitely helped take the edge off less than stellar days. Especially the ones where everything from rolling out of bed to making a meager breakfast of toast and tea, was a Herculean effort.

It reminded him of trips to the public pool as a child before his anxiety ruined his love of swimming. Cocooned under the cold water, cross-legged at the bottom of the pool, suspended in time and space, muffling the cacophony of the outside world. Breaking the surface to breathe every couple of minutes felt like a rebirth and he used to imagine the cleansing effect, not to mention the ungodly amount of chlorine, ridding him of his issues. Evan was certain one day he’d emerge from the liquid chrysalis with confidence, leaving the stuttering mess behind.

Until his dad left.

Reality was a cruel mistress. His safe space became claustrophobic, suddenly morphing into another thing that could kill him. It scared him how much he wanted it to - staying longer and longer underwater until his lungs burned and his eyes stung. The lifeguards observed with suspicion from on high, and he realized he might be too obvious. After that, he told his mom he didn’t want anyone to see him in swim trunks and refused to go. In time, the insecurity of his body became _another_ reason he didn’t like to swim, but it wasn’t the first. How fucked up was he that the first time he seriously contemplated death over living, he was in first grade?

Normally on days like this, Evan would take a mental health day and lounge in pj's. Maybe watch his favorite documentaries or play chill music until he regained his equilibrium, but he had responsibilities now. Oh God, is this what growing up was like? He hated it.

Sighing heavily, he rushed through a shower and his buttered toast, swallowing his meds dry while shoving his feet in his hiking boots. He internally cringed when he violently flung open the door on the first knock. Connor took one look at him with two buttons of his ranger polo undone and frowned. Damn it, his fastidiousness about his appearance was well known and a dead giveaway of his mental state.

“Morning,” Connor murmured, brushing his lips across his forehead so tenderly it made Evan dizzy. Striding in purposefully, Connor gently shut the door and buttoned his shirt in comfortable silence.

“Did you eat?” Connor asked. Rolling his eyes affectionately, Evan hummed in the affirmative and knelt to finish tying his boots.

A cabinet creaked and Evan shook his head fondly as the other boy puttered around in the kitchen. Dusting off his knees, he joined Connor in the next room and grinned to find him perched on the counter, long legs swinging as he waited for his toast while sipping a mug of lukewarm coffee.

“How long is your shift today?”

“‘Til six,” he replied.

Connor nodded absently as Evan transferred his untouched tea to a travel mug, hiding his concern behind the rim of his coffee. His sun-kissed complexion was paler than normal and purple shadows ringed his eyes, but his listlessness worried him. The spark defining Evan was missing, dimmed into half-dead embers, and a chill coursed along Connor’s spine. Securing the lid on the thermos, Evan settled between his legs and let his boyfriend pull him in for a protective hug.

“You know,” Connor broached carefully, “if it’s a bad day you don’t have to go in.”

Evan sighed into his shoulder. “I can’t hide from my problems.”

“I’m not saying you are. You’ve gone into work lots of times this summer without complaining when you weren’t a hundred percent. I know you’re capable, Evan. All I’m saying is, if it's a _really_ bad day, you could take a sick day. They exist for a reason,” he teased, hoping to lighten the blow.

“I know,” he mumbled. “It’s not that bad. I can do it.”

Rubbing circles along his back, Connor swallowed the sourness of Evan’s lie with a brusque nod. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to stay calm. Maybe it was a case of a rough night’s sleep and Evan would be fine in a couple of hours after some sun and fresh air. Maybe he wasn’t lying simply to please him. As much as he knew Evan, he didn’t live in his head and he couldn’t make snap judgments of his stability.

Trusting his word, Connor murmured, “I believe you. I just… wanted you to know the option was there.”

Squeezing tightly, Evan whispered, “Thank you.”

The toaster interrupted the moment, but Connor buttered his toast around Evan, unwilling to release him yet. Smiling into his boyfriend’s shoulder, Evan matched his breathing and focused on their points of contact. An arm loosely draped around his waist, his cheek pressed to his firm chest, the steady beat of Connor’s heart thrumming in his ear - grounding and comforting.

Tearing a section off the paper towel rack, Connor wiped his hands and brushed the crumbs off his mouth, sliding off the counter to clean up their mess. He washed their mugs while Evan grabbed his tea, mentally verifying he had everything he needed for a day in the park.

Chore complete, Connor turned expecting Evan to be leaning in the entryway with a smirk like usual, but he was alone in the kitchen. Stamping down the irrational fear tying his stomach in knots, he walked into the living room and found Evan staring into space.

_Yeah, uh huh. Not that bad, my ass._

Jesus, this was not helping his own anxiety, but he knew to tread carefully. Times like this required gentleness and understanding, steady hands, and soothing words. Any sudden movement or thoughtless comment could set him off like a nuclear reactor. Connor witnessed one of Evan’s epic explosions and _Christ_ , no wonder the boy had such debilitating anxiety. Buried under endless insecurities, choking on paranoia, stewing in self-loathing that rivaled his - it stunned him. But it also explained so much about Evan and why they understood each other on a cellular level. They were practically the same person; their issues were merely hard-wired to manifest differently.

Right now, the sensors revealed high levels of stress but did not threaten an imminent meltdown, and Connor planned to keep it that way.

“Hey, you ready?” he asked softly. Evan blinked and blessed him with a warm smile that normally would have melted his insides, but today made him more uneasy. “C’mon, then. Can’t let my favorite Apprentice Park Ranger be late.”

Evan chuffed a weak laugh and Connor breathed easier. “You have another ranger I don’t know about? And here I thought I was special.”

Threading their fingers together, Connor grinned. “So special, babe. I told Stephanie to let the others go because they don’t have an adequate wealth of tree knowledge. Shameful.”

Swatting his arm with a snort, Evan blushed. “Shut up, asshole. Trees are awesome and deserve respect.”

“I totally agree,” he said, leading them to the front door. “They are oxygenators and cloud creators, not to mention they make you happy. So yeah, they’re pretty fucking awesome, and I have mad respect for them.”

“Good,” Evan smirked as they left the house.

Settling in the car, they drove to the muted strains of an alternative station on the radio. Evan didn’t attempt small talk, and Connor understood his inability to carry or follow a conversation. He knew his boyfriend was concerned, try as he might to hide it, but the rigidity of his shoulders and side glances gave him away. The swipe of Connor’s thumb across his knuckles wasn’t merely for Evan’s benefit and he swallowed thickly, avoiding Connor’s intense scrutiny, staring out the window at the dense tree line as they neared their destination.

The sight of the majestic specimens the park protected usually filled him with peace, drawing from their staid nature to calm his anxiety. Today they loomed large overhead, dwarfing him as they reached for heaven, leaving him stranded on the ground. Isolated and alone.

What was he in the face of their magnificence? Nothing. He was inconsequential.

Unnecessary.

It was unlikely he’d ever do anything with his life. How could he when he didn’t have money for college? Even with scholarships and grants, he’d have to use loans to cover tuition and books and room and board. Which he had to pay back, somehow, and that put so much goddamn pressure on him to get a fantastic job straight out of school to handle his debts, and he wouldn’t even be twenty-fucking-five yet. But if he decided he wanted to go into research, that required more school, more loans, more debt, and he wouldn’t be able to touch the astronomical interest accruing in his name until he was nearly thirty.

No, it wasn’t worth the stress. _He_ wasn’t worth it. It was stupid, pointless, to believe he could do any of that. He still had an entire year of high school left that he dreaded with every fiber of his being, and college would be a thousand times more taxing. The professors would have _expectations_ of him, based solely on his test scores and grades, and _ohmyGod,_ he would have to retake the SAT because he almost had a breakdown last time and bombed. It was a good thing he qualified for the fee waiver so he didn’t have to pay to take it again because his mom wouldn’t have that kind of money lying around. But thinking about sitting through the timed test made him nauseous. What if he couldn’t do it? What if it was all for nothing for a _second_ goddamn time?

“-an!” Shaken roughly, he gasped, choking on the AC chilled air. “Breathe with me. In one, two, three, four, hold. Out one, two, three, four. In - you’re doing great, babe. Out one, two, three, four.”

Focusing on Connor’s voice, the blackness receded by degrees as he fought his body’s insistence on shutting down. His lips twitched in recognition when he could finally make out Connor’s features through the haze, but the fear in his eyes twisted Evan’s stomach into knots again. They continued the breathing exercise until he slumped in the seat, but Connor tethered him with a firm grip on his biceps.

“Five things you can see,” he insisted.

Evan’s eyes darted around. “You, the mug, your phone, ranger station, Alex’s motorcycle,” he rasped.

Connor snorted quietly, though his brow remained furrowed. “Four things you can hear.”

Gracing him with a small smile, Evan said, “You, the radio, car engine, birds.”

Relaxing minutely, Connor asked, “Need any more?” Evan shook his head and tangled their fingers together. “What the fuck happened? One minute you were… not great, but at least you were present, then you were having a panic attack out of nowhere.”

Ducking his head, Evan shrugged. “I’m fine. I spiraled when I started thinking about retaking the SAT, that’s all. I could have stopped it normally, maybe... but well, y’know.”

Nodding, Connor frowned again. “Yeah, except it’s a Bad Day - capital B. And don’t fucking deny it. I know better, Evan.” Glancing at the station, Connor sighed. “I really think you should take a day. That attack was severe and I know how tired they make you and you have a long shift today. I don’t think it’s a good combo.”

Sitting up straight, Evan shot him his best glare, which was admittedly weak at the moment, but that didn’t deter him. “I’m fine. Don’t coddle me, for God’s sake. I didn’t ask for it, and I don’t need it. I can take care of myself.”

Connor’s eyes widened, and he struggled to formulate a response that wasn’t venomous. Reminding himself Evan was emotionally fragile, seething in wounded pride, but he didn’t hate him. _Don’t push him away. He needs you right now. Don’t push him away._

Unlacing their fingers, Evan snatched his mug with one hand and the door handle with the other. “I’m going now,” he growled before Connor could respond. “I have things to do which I can handle just fine. Thanks.”

“Evan! Please, don’t leave like this, babe,” Connor pleaded, trying to catch him as he fled the car. _I love you, damn it! You can’t be mad at me for giving a fuck about you!_

Nostrils flaring in anger, Evan shook his head. “I can’t deal with this right now,” he bit out.

Slamming the door, he ignored the muffled shouts of his name and stormed into the station like a hurricane. Groaning in frustration, Connor violently raked his hands through his hair, staring at the door as though he could will Evan to come back. Pained tears pricked his eyes to match the gaping hole in his heart. Did he push too hard? He was just fucking worried, but he wouldn’t tell Evan how much that panic attack absolutely terrified him. It was a major contender for “worst ever” and he couldn’t think of a single trigger, meaning it was related to whatever was brewing in his mind. Definitely not good. Christ, he would never forgive himself if something happened to Evan. Crossing his arms over the steering wheel, Connor dropped his head and sobbed bitterly.

Blowing past the other rangers, Evan stalked to the small break room and wedged a chair under the handle, sinking into a corner to cry. He ruined it. Pushed away the one person who understood what he suffered because he didn’t want to be vulnerable. Damn his pride. Connor wouldn’t forgive him, and he couldn’t blame him; taking his kindness and concern and shoving it aside like it meant nothing, when in reality it was _everything._ Suffocating in guilt, he pulled his knees to his chest and rocked to memories of Connor’s calm voice to stay afloat.

* * *

The day passed slowly, and the other rangers were kind enough to leave him to his own devices. With his OCD ramped into high gear by the mess that was his relationship, Evan took it upon himself to deep clean and reorganize the station. Once complete, he snapped on a pair of gloves and drove a stocked golf cart to the popular picnic locations to empty the trash. Tossing the bags in the closest dumpster, he returned to the station for a breather.

After washing his hands and guzzling a bottle of water, he slumped into one of the far desks and tried to make himself invisible. Checking his watch, his heart sank when he realized there were no messages from Connor. That was a first and not one he ever wanted, but he did this to them so he should suffer the consequences. Ugh, he’d probably have to ask Jared for a ride home later, he realized. Fucking wonderful.

Glancing at the display again, paying attention to the time, Evan exhaled in relief. He’d burned most of the day. There were only a couple hours left to his shift; three until the park closed. He could wait in the station with the AC for Jared, or maybe Stephanie could take him home. He’d take a pity ride from his boss over listening to Jared gripe any day.

Alex breezed into the building with a loud sigh and collapsed in his chair. Gazing at Evan through half-closed lids, he groaned dramatically. “Summer, man. It takes my refuge of nature and turns it into a zoo.”

Evan smiled faintly. “Maybe, but you love it.”

Quirking a heavy brow at him under the brim of his olive-green cap, Alex rose to the bait. “Oh, yeah? Name one thing I love about it.”

“Girls,” Evan drawled with a smug grin. The man, who wasn’t much older than him, slapped his knee with a raucous laugh.

“Well, damn! You’re not wrong, dude.” Tilting his head, Alex studied him in the weighty pause. “Want to talk about it?”

Blushing, Evan ran his thumbnail through a natural groove in the wood. “No. Thanks, though. Do, um, do you think Stephanie will mind if I go on a walk? I’ve taken care of the trash at the picnic sites, but you’ll have to check them again before closing and-”

“Evan, you’re fine,” he interrupted kindly. “You’ve cleaned the whole building from top to bottom and worked around the park. If you need some time to clear your head, take it. Steph won’t mind, and neither do I.”

Popping out of his chair, he bobbed his head in anxious gratitude and rushed outside. He didn’t have a destination in mind - he just needed to move and be far away from people so he could breathe.

The farther he ventured into the dense trees, the more disconnected he felt. Normally the canopy of foliage was blanketing and protective. Today it was foreboding and slightly sinister. His rational brain begged him to turn around, but it was buried under the numbness leaching along his neurons, sending signals of apathy disguised as calm throughout his body.

And then he saw it - calling him home like a lighthouse directing wayward ships to port.

Standing at the base of the giant white oak, he shivered in awe. Thick and hardy, it had grown into a tower: a natural skyscraper seventy feet tall. Nature was beautiful and terrifying. The ocean with her tempests, mountains with their avalanches, space with its infinite nothingness, forests with trees so massive that a man looked insignificant beside it.

And he wasn’t even a man; he was still a boy. A broken, useless boy who wasn’t worth the oxygen the forest released into the atmosphere. The trees were doing their part for the ecosystem, for the world, and Evan was stealing it - robbing people who deserved clean air. People who would _do_ something with their lives instead of wasting them. Who would make their parents proud by ending world hunger or curing cancer.

He, Evan Hansen, was nothing but a disappointment. A cruel mistake.

Sometimes nature made those, too. Stunted trees, chromosomally damaged amphibians, snakes with two heads but neck muscles too weak to hunt. A predator that should be doubly successful, left to starve to death, slowly wasting away to nothing. Evan was all of them - stunted, genetically disjointed, dying a painfully slow death in his mind every single fucking day.

Yeah, some days were easier, but they were never perfect. He still had crippling anxiety, he couldn’t hold a conversation without stuttering, he suffered panic attacks and cried more often than he cared to admit.

He was pathetic. A waste of space.

Springing upward, Evan caught the lowest hanging branch and began his ascent. His journey to freedom, the way to rid the universe of his meaningless self.

This was the answer. The tree provided the means, and he took it without a second thought.

Climbing higher and higher, his heart lightened with every lift. The calluses on his hands rubbed against the bark like an old friend, familiar and sure, and his feet found purchase with ease, intuitively locating the sturdiest place to bear his weight for every shove to the next branch.

His lungs burned from the exertion and the lingering heat in the evening air. Drops of sweat beaded along his hairline, rolling under the collar of his shirt. His arms screamed with effort as he climbed higher than he’d ever gone before, barely registering that the tree limbs were dangerously thinning out. Some weaker ones even cracked under his weight when he used them as a crutch.

Almost there.

Evan could see the top of the tree. Only another ten or fifteen feet to reach it, and then it would all be over. To rid the world of him and free him from pain. His mom wouldn’t miss him. How could she when she was never home to see him, anyway? It’s not like they had a relationship to speak of. His dad would definitely not miss him. He fucking left him after all and then had a replacement kid. Probably wouldn’t even come to the funeral, which was fine, really.

No one at school would remember him. Jared wasn’t an actual friend, after all, and he had other people he hung out with, anyway.

_Connor._

His name instantly shattered his disassociation, replaced by a frantic need to talk, to touch, to see Connor. Latching onto the trunk of the tree for support, Evan trembled violently, sucking in desperate lungfuls of air. Connor wouldn’t survive if he did this. It would utterly destroy him and Evan could hate himself all he wanted, but _ohmyGod_ , he could never hurt Connor like that.

Swallowing hard to wet his impossibly dry throat, he carefully slid along the trunk and clung to the branch under him. It was thinner than he was comfortable with, suddenly very aware it wouldn’t bear his full weight for long. His eyes dropped to the ground below and cold chills raced up his spine. The dread in his gut rolled violently, but he forced himself to swallow the nausea with difficulty.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” he hissed through his teeth. The realization of what he tried to do settled around him like wet wool - scratchy and damp, hot and cloying. Was he suffocating? No, but he certainly wasn’t breathing normally at the moment.

The branch creaked, echoing like a shot in the canopy, and he wrapped his legs tighter around it, stilling like a statue. Closing his eyes, Evan focused on his breathing exercises to steady the crush of terror crawling under his skin, deliberately pulling gulps of the life-giving oxygen the trees were thankfully blessing him with into his lungs.

Once his breaths were no longer hiccuping gasps, he carefully checked the time on his watch. 6:30 PM. His shift was over and the park would close soon. Guilt slammed into him, nearly robbing him of his breath again when he saw the notifications.

_Connor - 10 texts._

_Connor - 6 missed calls._

With shaky hands, Evan opened the messaging app and sent a text without bothering to read the others.

_I did something dumb. Plz help. I’m scared_

The watch immediately pinged.

_Jfc! Are you ok? Are you hurt?_

_Not hurt, but not ok. Need a harness to get down._

_Send me your location now. I’m getting the rangers and I’m coming for you._

Tears stung his eyes at the deceptively simple words. Proving in black and white that someone cared. _I’m coming for you._

Pulling up the incident alert on his watch, Evan activated it and crossed his fingers it worked. A feature he never thought he would be so goddamn grateful for until now.

_Got it. I’m coming, babe._

Oh thank God, Connor loved him enough to find him, to save him from himself. He hadn’t pushed him away. He was still his — his reason to keep living. A sob wrenched from Evan’s lungs; an ugly, wretched thing, much like himself.

In the distance, Evan heard the whine of ATVs and saw the pinpricks of yellow from the headlights through the dense foliage. They roared into his line of sight and he sobbed again because there, among the backdrop of green leaves and olive uniforms, was a black-clad figure.

Most would call him a reaper, leaving destruction in his wake, but they were wrong. Those people didn’t know Connor’s protectiveness and loyalty like he did. It was a secret known to few and one Evan jealously guarded. He flew off the back of the four-wheeler before it even came to a complete stop and stared directly at him in the fading daylight.

Connor. His fierce avenging angel, come to save him again.

“Evan! Jesus, are you alright?!” Connor yelled from the base of the tree, eyes wild and dark with panic. The seed of fear planted in Connor’s chest this morning had slowly unfurled its roots during their radio silence. Now it bloomed into a thorny, gnarled bush at the horrifying sight of Evan perched sixty fucking feet in the air. It twined around his heart, digging its thorns into his flesh, ripping him apart, and drowning him in rivers of blood.

One slip. One slip was all it would take to lose the boy he loved with his heart and soul. He’d never known genuine fear until this moment. The actual possibility of losing Evan - losing everything that fucking mattered - filled him with bone-chilling terror. But he had to keep his shit together. Evan needed him to be strong, no matter how much he wanted to fall apart.

A strangled gasp spilled past Evan’s lips when he nodded. “I’m okay,” he croaked. “But I can’t move. The branch is weak. It’s creaking like it’s gonna break.”

“Christ, babe! Okay, okay, just… sit still and hang tight, alright? Stephanie and Alex are coming up with a plan. I’m gonna talk to you. How about I tell you a story? Is that okay?” Evan nodded again, stretching his hand in a silent plea for his presence, a faint smile cracking his face when Connor imitated it.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Zoe and I stole an entire pie at Thanksgiving?” Evan shook his head and Connor smirked. “We were little, like six and seven, and the house was full of people. Family and friends and some of Larry’s coworkers. It was a goddamn madhouse, right? No one was paying attention to any of us shoved at the kid’s table in the room over from the adults.”

Evan snorted at the mischievous quirk of Connor’s brow. He paused briefly in his storytelling to toss a clipped nod to Alex when the man started climbing. Exhaling raggedly, Evan focused on Connor’s face and the soothing velvet of his voice when he launched into his tale with renewed vigor.

“We didn’t know like, half the kids there, because most of them weren’t even family. We were feeling a little salty about being pushed aside, not gonna lie. So, _Zoe,_ I shit you not, babe, this was _her_ idea. Don’t let her try to tell you differently. Anyway, Zoe decided we deserved a pie. Not a slice. The whole damn thing!” Evan chuckled, his heart leaping at Connor’s grin. “Right! I couldn’t believe it, but I wasn’t going to say _no._ ”

“Of course not,” Evan teased, trying to distract himself from his teeth chattering in the absence of suicidal adrenaline. Shivering, he clung tighter to the branch, impatiently wishing to _get down, get down, get to him, get to him, hold him, touch him, kiss him._

Connor’s expression softened, simultaneously warming Evan’s soul and breaking his heart. Oh God, he nearly denied himself the chance to see those beautiful, secretive smiles. Blinking back tears, he reined in his emotions and anchored himself to the boy on the ground.

“Of course not,” Connor replied. “You know I love pie and this is seven-year-old me we’re talking about! So we hatched a plan. Step one: ditch the kids at the kiddie table, which took way too long in our own damn house. We finally agreed to meet up in the downstairs bathroom and hide there for a few minutes until they were tired of looking for us. It worked, amazingly.”

Alex was closer now, carefully dancing around each branch as he slid the friction hitch higher, putting only the barest amount of weight on the junction of each limb for a quick boost. Evan nearly cried to see the second harness tossed over his shoulder.

“Step two of the pie liberation was to avoid suspicion of the adults.” Evan giggled at Connor’s phrasing and thought he heard Alex snort in amusement, too. “Zoe’s job was to act as a distraction, which wasn’t hard to accomplish because Cynthia decked her out in this frilly monstrosity that every woman within a five-mile radius oohed and aahed over. She fucking hated it, of course, but it worked in our favor for The Plan. And yes, those are honest to God capitals, babe. Think Mission Impossible: Thanksgiving 2010.”

“Alternate title: Pie Larceny,” Evan quipped, overjoyed by Connor’s rich laughter. Alex definitely chuckled at that.

“Yes! Oh my God, that’s amazing. I’m totally renaming it Pie Larceny.”

Jesus Christ, he’d been so close to losing him. Never again hearing his quick rejoinders and sarcastic humor, robbed of that beautifully bright laughter that lit up the darkness of his soul. Furiously blinking back the tears stinging his eyes, Connor breathed deeply to steady himself. _Don’t fall apart, dumbass, he needs you. Gotta keep it together. Stay strong for him._

The sun sank beneath the tree line, darkening the edges of the forest, smudging Connor into a barely discernible line of charcoal. Shaded into obscurity like one of his breathtaking sketches. The separation between them was now painfully acute, and Evan gasped unintentionally from the rush of ice water in his veins.

“Evan! Evan, are you okay? I can’t… shit! I can’t see you now, it’s too dark.” Before he could respond, a light pierced the suffocating shadows, revealing Alex’s grinning face. “Thank fuck,” Connor sighed, tapping his forehead against the bark with a harsh exhale.

“That boy really loves you, you know,” Alex murmured on the branch underneath him, quickly rigging a pulley system with his assortment of ropes and winches.

“I know,” Evan whispered. “I love him, too.”

Shaking his head with a warm chuckle, Alex yanked on the rope to test the knots, attaching the harness to the line when he was satisfied they were secure. “He came flying into the station on a tear. Yelling that you were in trouble, demanding we go ‘right now, immediately’ and I quote, ‘Jesus fucking Christ, if you don’t help me find him, I’ll fucking do it myself.’ He wasn’t a boy then - he was a man afraid to lose the best thing in his life.” Glancing up at him, Alex leveled him with an unreadable expression, half-hidden in the dim illumination of his belt-light.

Evan swallowed hard and rasped, “Th-that’s how I f-felt when I realized… how high I was. I-I froze and c-couldn’t climb down. And-and then the b-branch...” Clenching his fists in shame, aggravated by his damn stutter possibly revealing more than he intended, Evan centered himself with the bite of his nails in his palms.

Smiling genially, Alex planted his feet and extended the harness. “Well, we’re gonna fix that, okay? Put that on, but go slow. Once you’re clipped in, you’ll come to me because I have the pulley set up on this branch. Then I’ll lower you down.”

“Sounds good,” Evan weakly agreed.

Taking the gear with shaky hands, he carefully unwound his legs from their death grip on the unstable limb and slid first one leg, then the other through. The odd groan of wood grinding against wood halted his movement. All four of them in the ominous forest froze and Evan felt terror lap his insides, turning his bones to jelly. Finding his voice amid the undertow of fear, he called unsteadily into the darkness.

“Connor, I need you to talk to me. Get me out of my fucking head.”

Without missing a beat, Connor answered him, the waver in his tone ignored for the moment. “So… so Zoe goes into the kitchen, right, where she is _immediately_ surrounded by middle-aged women in floral perfume. Which, for the record, I’ve never understood. Why do women choose to smell like knock off flowers?”

Evan breathed a sigh of relief as the voice that always pulled him from his panic attacks or calmed him after a nightmare soothed his raw nerves. Shooting a nervous glance to Alex, who nodded reassuringly, he eased his butt off the branch and shimmied into the seat to clip himself in.

“They wouldn’t leave the kitchen though, even if Zoe did. And by this point, I was getting bored with the whole idea. But then I remembered Zoe’s ukulele!” Huffing a soft chuckle with a smile, Evan gingerly swung his left leg over the branch and grabbed Alex’s arm, holding his breath when he slid the short distance to the thicker limb.

“Jesus Christ,” Connor muttered, wiping his sweaty palms along his jeans. Clearing his throat, he continued, “I told Zoe to get her ukulele and then hold an impromptu concert in the formal dining room.”

Alex clapped Evan on the shoulder and set to work, adjusting and tightening the harness around his hips and legs. Grunting in satisfaction, he picked up the rope. “Okay, let’s get you outta here. Hold tight to the forward line and I’ll work the back. Ready?”

“Ready,” he said with faux confidence. Gripping the rope tightly, Evan kicked off the branch, an involuntary yip escaping him as he hovered in the air - suspended in time and space like the pool, only this time his life was in someone else’s hands. A mere second later and the wide straps around his hips vibrated with each slide of the mechanism.

“She comes back with her ukulele -” thank God for Connor, knowing what he needed without even having to ask “- and invites everyone to listen to her play London Bridge or something. I don’t fucking remember, but it worked. All the adults left the kitchen, and I snatched the closest pumpkin pie and ran to my room.”

Using a pulley was infinitely faster, the forest floor was only moments away. Glancing over his shoulder, Evan caught Connor’s laser-focused gaze in the glow of the ranger’s lanterns, his tall frame quaking with nervous tension as he strode to meet him.

“Know what’s stupid about all that, though?” he whispered. Evan shook his head vehemently, tears scalding his eyelids, heart aching with his proximity. Connor’s chin wobbled slightly, and he opened his mouth a couple of times before the words came. “We went through all that trouble for a damn pie, but once we were hiding in my room with it, we realized we didn’t have any fucking forks.”

Evan choked on a sob when his feet touched down, but Connor's arms instantly enveloped him. Sinking to the loamy undergrowth together, Connor cradled him against his chest, wetting each other’s clothes with tears and snot.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Evan hiccuped between gut-wrenching sobs.

He ground himself to the tremors wracking their bodies and the chaotic tattoo of their hearts slamming against their ribs, as though trying to nestle into one another. Buoyed by Connor’s loving whispers, Evan let the welcome scent of spiced citrus and musk flood his nose and bring him home. It proved this was real. He wasn’t alone anymore, and he didn’t have to fight his asshole brain on his own.

Someone in this godforsaken universe loved him. And not just _anyone_. Connor fucking Murphy loved him.

Reluctantly separating, Connor intently checked his arms and legs for scrapes. Finding none, he released the breath seized by his lungs when he read Evan’s first text message. While still terrified, at least his body was fully functional again so he could devote his attention to the precious boy in his lap. Using the sleeve of his beloved hoodie, Connor gently wiped Evan’s face, brushing aside his boyfriend’s protests.

“Babe,” he murmured, “I can wash it. It’s not a big deal.” To prove his point, he roughly dried his own tears with the opposite sleeve. “See? It’s fine.”

“I can’t believe you came,” Evan whispered, blinking in disbelief.

Tucking him under his chin, Connor sucked in a ragged breath, silently cursing every person who ever made him feel unimportant. “Of course I came for you, Evan. Jesus Christ, you are literally everything to me, baby. I will _always_ come for you. Remember, you promised we’d be together forever? I’m holding you to that, Aphrodite.”

Evan’s chuckle was wet and phlegmy and gross, but Connor didn’t ridicule him. The certainty in knowing he _never_ _would_ unfurled a tender warmth that thawed the icy snare of doubt strangling his heart.

Swallowing to clear his airway, Evan croaked, “You’re right, Adonis, I did.”

“Good,” Connor mumbled in his hair. “C’mon, let’s get you out of that thing. It’s got to be cutting off circulation to your legs.”

“Uh, yeah, kinda,” he admitted sheepishly. Of course, Evan would rather suffer than admit he was uncomfortable. Rolling his eyes, Connor helped him loosen and unclip the straps so he could wriggle out of the harness.

Stephanie joined them with water bottles that they took gratefully. “You okay, Evan? You gave us all quite a scare.”

Ducking his head, he nervously picked the seal on the cap with his thumbnail. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention and then the branch I was on… I couldn’t, I couldn't, oh my God, I couldn’t!” He stared at Connor in wide-eyed panic, repeating the words like a broken record. Immediately folding his body around him, Connor murmured reassurances no one else could hear until his sobs quieted into sniffles, though the grip on his hoodie remained tight.

His stomach lurched with the pseudo-confession, confirming everything Connor already guessed. Jesus fucking Christ. Did he do this? Did he push too hard this morning? Or was this Evan’s head telling him the world was better off without him? Was there any way to avoid it? Could Connor have prevented it if he’d forced him to stay home and cared for him like he knew he needed? Or would it have only pushed this whole situation back a day? A week? A month? How were they supposed to _fix_ this?

“It’s okay, hon,” Stephanie said, taking a step back to give them space. “I’m just glad you’re alright. Alex is level again. Let's get out of here so you boys can head home.”

Stomping on the untamed protectiveness lashing out in his mind, demanding that he stay close by, Connor reasoned carrying Evan in the dark to guarantee his safety was irrational. Regardless of how loath he was to entrust his fragile boyfriend with anyone else right now, Evan needed him to have his damn head on straight.

Connor nodded in agreement with her. Gently running his fingers through Evan’s hair, he murmured, “Hey baby, we have to ride the four-wheelers, so we have to split up for a few minutes. Who do you want to ride with? Stephanie or Alex?”

“Alex,” he whispered, burrowed in the safety of his chest.

Connor relayed the message as the rangers quickly and efficiently repacked their gear, stowing it all in the cargo bins attached to the vehicles. In moments the site was empty and the four of them rode in silence along the emergency trails to the station. It was too dark to see Evan’s face, but that didn’t stop Connor from fruitlessly trying to gauge his state of mind during the drive.

Roaring into the parking lot, Connor scooped Evan into his arms without a word and settled his shivering form in the passenger seat of his car. Leaning over the console, he turned on the vehicle, smirking when Evan weakly batted his hair out of his face.

“Anything inside I need to grab before we leave?” Connor asked.

“My phone and travel mug,” Evan stammered through clacking teeth. He flicked the dial for the heated seat, cranking it as high as it would go to fight off the lingering ice in his soul.

Connor squeezed his hand with a promise to be right back and disappeared. Running inside the station, a sick sense of deja vu derailed him, sending him stumbling to the nearest trash can. Stephanie rubbed his back, murmuring nonsensically while he dry heaved through shattered sobs.

Trembling violently, Connor accepted the water Alex passed him with a curt nod, leaning against the desk and taking a long sip. “Thanks,” he rasped.

Sharing a glance, the rangers fidgeted nervously, unsure how to broach the thought on everyone’s mind, but Connor wouldn’t betray Evan’s confidence. Clearing his throat, he whispered, “Thank you for your help, but I need to take Evan home.”

“Yes, of course,” Stephanie blurted, moving aside when he rushed to collect his things. “One more thing, his internship was supposed to last another week, but I’m calling it done after this. Please keep me posted on you both so I don’t worry. Evan has my number.”

“We will, I promise,” Connor said from the doorway. He’d already taken too long and his skin prickled uncomfortably with the need to make sure his boyfriend hadn’t run to another tree or bolted for the highway, intent on some poor motorist doing the job for him.

The driver’s door jerked open and Evan startled, blinking in surprise under the bright dome light. Connor plopped in the seat with a hurried apology and set his things in the cupholder. With a heavy frown at his shaking frame, he wordlessly peeled off his hoodie and rolled up the grimy sleeves, draping it over Evan like a blanket. He snuggled into the soft fabric with a pleased hum, shooting Connor a weak smile.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked delicately as they pulled out of the lot.

Evan nodded. “Just shock, y’know? Nothing the hospital can do about that.”

Connor sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “No, but a Xanax can take the edge off. Let’s get you home so we can get one in your system.”

“You’re staying?” he asked, blushing with the desperation in his tone.

Snatching the hand lying listlessly on the seat, Connor tangled their fingers in a fierce grip on top of the gearshift. _I will never leave you again. I am going to shower you in affection until you don’t doubt how much I love you and I swear to God, I will never let you walk away angry. Good day or bad, babe, you’re stuck with me._

“There is nowhere else I’d rather be, Evan. You need to be with me and I sure as fuck need to be with you.” He cleared his throat gruffly when his voice cracked. “Tell me what you want for dinner. Your choice tonight.”

“Chinese sounds good,” Evan said with a watery smile.

There were so many things Evan wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat - too big, too terrifying to be uttered aloud. Chief among them, he didn’t deserve Connor. He didn’t deserve kindness and love and rabid loyalty after what he almost did. After he almost threw it all away. But God, he was selfish, and he wanted it more than ever. He didn’t know if that made him human or manipulative.

“Yeah, it does,” Connor agreed, reluctantly freeing his hand. “Go ahead and order it on my phone. Delivery, not carry out.”

“The usual?” he questioned, opening the home delivery app.

“Yeah, but get -”

“Extra rangoons?” Evan confirmed with a grin. Connor chuckled and playfully poked his thigh. Grateful for the brief return of normalcy, he finished processing the order as they reached his driveway. Sighing in relief at the familiar bungalow, Evan said, “Should be about 40 minutes.”

Grabbing Evan’s things, Connor nodded. “Great. Plenty of time to get you bathed and medicated.”

“Wait, what?” Evan sputtered, trailing up the porch after his boyfriend.

Connor didn’t reply until they were inside and the door secured behind them. “Yep. After all that exercise and then the shock, you need to relax and I doubt you can stand for long under a shower right now. The guest bath has a tub, so that’s where you’re going.”

Evan allowed himself to be ushered through his house, bewildered and bashful, but there was no point trying to tell Connor no. He was right on all fronts, though Evan wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to someone wanting to take care of him.

Settling Evan on the closed toilet, Connor turned on the water, carefully adjusting the temperature and muttering under his breath. “Thought I saw some… probably in the other bathroom. I’ll have to check.” Dropping a kiss to the top of his head, Connor swept out of the room and raced upstairs. Evan heard cabinets opening and closing and muffled shuffling and finally a triumphant “Aha!”

Smothering his laughter as Connor thundered down the stairs, tripping over his gangly legs and cursing, Evan furrowed his brow in confusion when he reappeared with a bright smile and green bag. “Epsom salt for your muscles. I used them a lot when I was in tae kwon do as a kid. They keep you from getting achy,” he explained.

“Okay,” he agreed shyly. The warmth in Evan’s chest blossomed, settling in his gut as Connor tested the temperature of the water and scooped a hefty amount of salt into the tub, swirling it with his hand to help it dissolve faster. Switching off the tap, Connor turned to him with that easy grace he envied.

“Strip. I’ll get your meds and some water while you get in. Then I’m gonna wash your clothes and my hoodie.”

Ducking his head to hide his furious blush, Evan murmured, “You don’t have to do all this for me.”

Crouching in front of him, Connor threaded their hands together. “No, but I want to. You would do the same for me. Hell, you _have_ done stuff like this for me. I love you and this is what you do when you love someone - you _care_ for them.”

Evan’s breath hitched with the devotion shining through Atlantic eyes, but the tightness of his smile hinted at the fear churning below the surface. Tonight hadn’t simply terrified him; it scared Connor, too. Guilt and shame burst the bubble of contentment welling in his chest, and he nodded quickly instead of verbally responding. If he opened his mouth now, he’d break down and upset Connor again, which he couldn’t handle.

“I’ll just be a second,” Connor said, granting Evan privacy in his vulnerability.

God, how did he get so lucky? And why the fuck did he think ending it all was an answer? Biting back a sob, he jerkily tossed aside his clothes, hissing at the sharp sting of his overworked trapezius. He hoped those salts worked, because _fuck_. Sighing heavily _,_ Evan eased into the water with a groan. A light rap of knuckles on the door announced Connor’s return, and Evan called him in.

Taking Evan’s prior seat, Connor passed him the Xanax and a glass of water, setting it on the counter after he washed down the pill. “I can leave if you want space,” he offered quietly.

Snatching his hand, Evan shook his head. “No. Stay with me, please.”

Smiling kindly, Connor sank onto the bathmat and draped himself over the side, resting his cheek against Evan’s arm. They sat in silence, content to take comfort in one another’s presence. Occasionally Connor would dip his hand in the water and dribble it around Evan’s shoulders, earning a grateful hum in response.

Pointing at the shampoo in the corner, Connor said, “I can wash your hair if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Evan murmured, flushing halfway down his chest. Sitting up, he grabbed the bottle and passed it to his boyfriend. He leaned into the water, but Connor stopped him with a gentle hand to his back.

“Just tilt your head. I’ve got you,” he whispered. Evan’s heart constricted oddly, and he blinked away the tears threatening to return. He didn’t deserve such tenderness, and if Connor knew the truth about how broken he was, he’d say the same.

But he tipped his head instead of arguing, allowing the glorious feel of slender fingers to work their magic in his hair and massage his scalp. Sudsy hands trailed south, caressing his neck and shoulders, pulling indecent moans from his throat as they released the knots coiled under his skin. The touch wasn’t sexual, but it was sensual and loving, filling the cracks in his soul with an affection he never thought could belong to him. Cupping his hands, Connor carefully rinsed his hair and washed away the leftover bubbles with aching gentleness, breaking the dam on Evan’s tears.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

Pulling his knees to his chest, Evan buried his face in them and growled. “I’m an idiot. I don’t know why you stay with me. I’m so _stupid!_ And you’re too good for me. I don’t deserve any of this! I don’t deserve you! God, I’m pathetic and whiny and -”

“Stop, Evan,” Connor demanded. “You’re not any of those things. I break shit and I hurt people when my brain malfunctions. You climb trees. Though I hope the next time you feel you have to climb that high, you call me first,” he murmured.

Evan froze. No. There was no way he could possibly… they understand each other on a profound level, but -

“I know,” Connor whispered. “I suspected when I got your text, but I knew the minute I saw you. Your eyes were screaming for help and you’re too talented a climber to get trapped like that. Unless your brain was lying to you.”

Angling his head to face him, Evan choked, “How do you not hate me?”

Connor’s eyes filled with tears, shattered to see summer blue dimmed to dismal gray. “I could never hate you, Evan. _Ever_. Our brains need help. We do and say shitty things because we _think_ shitty things about ourselves, but I don’t blame you or want to leave you.” Closing the gap between them, he pressed their foreheads together. “It makes me want to wrap you in blankets and bubble wrap and smother you with attention until you’re sick of looking at me, though.”

A broken laugh tumbled out of Evan’s mouth. “Well, there’s a mental picture. What are you gonna do? Roll me down the street?”

“I’m working out the logistics, but rolling you around does sound kinda fun,” Connor teased.

Snorting, Evan retorted, “I mean, you do have practice rolling joints. Guess a bundled up boyfriend isn’t much difference.”

Connor’s borderline hysterical laughter almost drowned out Evan’s airy chuckles. “Jesus Christ, Evan,” he wheezed, shakily wiping away tears. “This is why you deserve the world. You’re smart and fucking hilarious and you make me so goddamn happy. I know, Christ, I _know_ I’m not enough to fix everything, but that doesn’t mean I half-ass things. If anything, I love you harder. I’m sorry if it’s too much -”

“No,” Evan interrupted, clutching his hands desperately. “No, it’s not too much. Connor… you’re the reason I didn’t let go.”

“What?” he croaked, gaping at him in shock, ashen features framed by dark waves.

Closing his eyes, Evan breathed deeply for a few heartbeats before speaking. “I couldn’t think of a single good thing about myself when I stared at the tree. When I started climbing, I couldn’t think of anyone who would miss me. Mom is never home. Dad left and doesn’t know shit about me. Jared is, well, Jared.”

Swallowing hard, he held Connor’s intense gaze and continued. “Then I thought of you and _God_. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave you like that. You would blame yourself and end up like me in a matter of days. I may not always like myself, but I love you too much to break your heart.

“And then I texted you and you came… you _actually_ came for me and talked to me to keep me sane. You _saved_ me, Connor. Nothing you do or say is ever too much. It’s always perfect, like you. _You’re_ my reason.”

Connor halted his speech with a bruising kiss. Forceful and needy, it spoke volumes about how much he loved him and what his words meant. “You’re my reason, too, Evan,” he breathed when they separated. “I’m so fucking glad you’re alive, baby,” he insisted, amused despite himself when Evan blushed.

“Me, too,” Evan murmured, smiling weakly through the tears Connor thumbed away. “Y’know that’s, like, the third time you’ve called me ‘baby’ tonight,” he mumbled timidly.

Yes, it was, in fact. Connor reined in the bubble of laughter welling in his chest with Evan’s embarrassment. Jesus, he was perfect. He hadn’t been _entirely_ wrong the night of Rebekah’s party when he told Connor he thought he was perfect for him, except Evan had it backward. It wasn’t Evan who was lucky to have Connor; it was Connor who was _fucking_ _blessed_ by some as-to-unknown good karma to have Evan.

“Is it?” he asked casually. “Does it bother you?”

Gazing at the water, Evan shrugged. “No, it’s just you normally only call me that when we have sex.”

Clicking his tongue, Connor tilted his face to meet his soft gaze. “That’s incorrect. I use that name during highly emotional moments. Until tonight, I restricted it to sex, but it doesn’t have to be. Unless you don’t want me to say it around other people.”

“I didn’t mean I don’t like it or that I mind, because I don’t. I just didn’t know if you knew you were doing it or why,” he shrugged again, cheeks stained a pretty pink.

Cocking his head slightly, Connor’s lips quirked. “So, to clarify, you don’t mind if I call you ‘baby’ outside of bed where other people might hear? Or would you prefer to keep it between you and me?”

Evan’s mouth dried as he weighed the options. While he loved the intimacy of the name, he didn’t think they would diminish it if other people heard it. It was a common enough pet name, after all. Though knowing where it originated and the importance it held for _them_ , shared inconspicuously among outsiders added a thrill, a hint of illicit danger, which wasn’t something he ever thought he’d be into, but he really, really was.

He swallowed hard when Connor’s pupils dilated in response to whatever expression was on his face. “You can use it anytime,” he rasped, “as long as you promise to never stop calling me that.”

Shifting closer, Connor murmured, “Does it turn you on that much?”

“You have no fucking idea,” Evan hissed.

Glancing down, Connor smirked wickedly. “Oh, _baby_ , I think I do.”

With a strangled groan, Evan grit through clenched teeth, “I hate you sometimes.”

Closing the distance with a broad grin, he chuckled. “No, you don’t.”

Evan opened his mouth to protest, but Connor sealed their lips together and licked inside without hesitation. Evan melted with a stilted whimper, tugging him closer and almost dragging him in the bath. Catching the side of the tub, Connor remained outside, though his clothes plastered themselves to the dripping wet god in the water, but he didn’t give a flying fuck because Evan was living and breathing underneath him.

Their initial teasing rapidly turned urgent as they communicated through action what they couldn’t articulate. Held captive by thick arms strong enough to carry the world, now trembling around Connor’s body, Evan silently begged for help because he only looked like he could bear the weight alone. Fingers twined too tightly in his hair, revealing his unspoken fear, pleading for reassurance while broad shoulders shuddered against the porcelain. Rendered speechless by full lips kissing him like there was no tomorrow, because _sweet Jesus_ there almost hadn’t been, Connor poured his heart and soul into their desperate embrace, hoping Evan recognized everything he wanted to say.

Pulling away with a gasp, Evan stared at Connor. His paranoia still working overtime to convince him the other boy wouldn’t stay now that he knew how truly damaged he was - how much work a relationship with him would entail. He couldn’t expect _anyone_ to willingly take him on full-time.

Holding his gaze, Evan found everything he needed to settle his uncertainty. Waves of love washed over him, seeping through the pores of his skin, filling him to overflowing. Promises of comfort and support, through good days and bad. Vowing to never abandon him, like everyone else in his life; only when he tasted salt did he realize he was crying.

“I love you,” Evan hiccuped. “I love you so much ‘I love you’ isn’t enough.”

“I know, babe, I know,” Connor whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you, too, Evan. So fucking much. You’ll never know how much because there aren’t words. Well, in English, anyway.”

Huffing a weak laugh, Evan said, “I don’t know. I think I might. Few people would stick around after this.” Smiling shyly, he reached up and tucked a stray curl behind his ear with a whisper. “But they aren’t you. You’re so amazing, Connor. Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured. Clearing his throat, he brushed his lips lightly across Evan’s nose before pushing off the tub and standing up. Grabbing a clean towel from the cupboard, Connor unfolded it and held it open. “C’mon, you’re all pruney now.”

Chuckling softly, Evan pulled the plug on the drain and gingerly stepped out of the bathtub. “Get comfy. I’m gonna start the laundry,” Connor stated, already gathering the scattered pieces of Evan’s uniform.

Gently catching Connor’s arm, the ridges of scar tissue under his fingers reminded Evan how similar they were. Thumbing the lines tenderly, he said, “I’m sorry about this morning. You were right, I should have stayed home. I’m sorry I repaid your kindness by soaking your clothes.”

Rolling his eyes, Connor kissed him sweetly. To Connor, Evan wasn’t broken - maybe a little wonky, like a watch with a slightly off timing mechanism, but that didn’t make him defective. He merely required someone willing to monitor it for unexpected lags so it could be wound and adjusted to stay calibrated.

“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to sound condescending, but I did. And I don’t care about the clothes; they’ll go in the wash, too. I have spares here for a reason, babe,” he teased.

“True,” Evan laughed, banishing the heaviness of the night in the wake of his brightness. “I’ll get changed and bring you some, okay?”

Grinning with the re-emergence of Evan’s spark, Connor nodded. “Yeah, sounds great. Thanks.”

Connor unashamedly watched him climb the stairs in his towel, relishing the fact that he could. Dear God, he would never take the small things for granted ever again. Evan tossed him a cheeky wink over his shoulder when he reached the landing, pulling a bark of laughter from his gut, which dissolved into a genuine fit when Evan giggled from the bedroom.

“Oh my God, Evan! I fucking love you, babe,” he crowed.

“Love you more!” he yelled in reply.

Throwing the clothes in the washer, he filled the dispenser with the appropriate liquids and chose the right setting. Evan hurried downstairs and passed him his dry pajamas with a smile. Riding the high cresting after the events of the night, inspiration struck him. Arching a mischievous brow at the other boy, Connor flicked open the accordion door with a flourish, smirking at Evan’s amused snort.

With the slatted barrier between them, he hummed out a beat and pantomimed a striptease behind the door. Spinning his shirt, he chucked it gracefully in the open machine, running his fingers teasingly along his bare arm. Kicking aside his jeans, he flashed his bony ankle dramatically to Evan’s wild laughter. Waving his underwear like a flag while Evan choked on his spit, he flicked them carelessly in the wash. Snatching the clean items, he dressed and reappeared to whistles and applause. Dipping into a deep bow, he sidled over to the castaway jeans. Wadding them into a ball, he launched them overhead. They landed dead center, prompting an obligatory “swish” from both boys as he started the laundry.

“Were you singing Rihanna?” Evan asked with a giggle when Connor closed the distance between them.

Connor shrugged. “It was either _Skin_ or _Partition_ by Beyonce.”

“OhmyGod, Connor!” he sputtered with a full-body blush.

Laughing, Connor wrapped his arms around his scandalized boyfriend’s waist. “What? Zoe can say whatever she wants about me. She has no idea what I listen to - which is everything for the record. And they’re both great sex songs.”

Burying his face in Connor’s tee, Evan mumbled, “I am not having sex to either of those songs. Ever. Just so we’re clear.” Connor chuckled in understanding. They stood in peaceful silence for a few heartbeats, basking in the residual lightness from the moment of levity.

“What about you?” Connor abruptly asked, fingers idly rubbing circles along Evan’s spine. “Any hobbies or talents? Mine is apparently embarrassingly bad strip teases.” He grinned broadly when Evan tried to disappear into his torso, muttering self-consciously. “Oh, come on, you have to tell me now!” he exclaimed, shaking him playfully.

Huffing bashfully, Evan lifted his head and mumbled, “I play guitar and sing.”

Connor vibrated in excitement. “Oh my fucking God, how did I not already know this about you? This is amazing! How long have you played? Wait, do you even have a guitar? I’ve never seen it.”

Evan laughed at Connor’s exuberant chatter. “I don’t sing around anyone. It’s always something I did alone. I guess it became a habit. I do have a guitar… somewhere. It probably needs new strings now and I don’t have a tuner anymore.” He shrugged dismissively. “My speech therapist suggested it in sixth grade to help with my stutter. I mean, she was right, in a way. I don’t stutter when I sing, but it didn’t translate into daily life for me.”

“This is a gold mine of information, Evan. My handsome boyfriend sings and plays guitar! Are you fucking kidding me?!” Connor darted to the stairs and was halfway up when Evan stopped him.

“Where are you going?”

Spinning around, Connor smiled brightly. “Guitar hunting!”

Laughing, Evan steadied himself against the back of the couch. “Connor, I’m out of practice and I’ll probably be terrible.” Connor nodded sadly, his expression faltering, and Evan sighed in defeat. “Damn you and those puppy eyes,” Evan groused without any heat. “We can search for it tomorrow. When I get it in working condition, I’ll play for you, I promise.”

He barely had time to register the flying smudge before Connor tackled him and peppered him with kisses. “I’ll hold you to that, babe. I want to hear you play. Are you gonna make me wait to hear you sing, too?”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Evan shook his head. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t,” Connor replied breathlessly.

What was Evan supposed to say? No? It’s not like he could deny him anything, especially after everything. And it was _Connor_. He was trustworthy and kind - he wouldn’t mock his efforts if he screwed up or tease him mercilessly about his secret like Jared would.

Licking his lips, Evan exhaled nervously. “Okay. I need my Bluetooth speaker. This song deserves better sound than my phone can handle.”

Connor whooped and flew upstairs to grab the portable speaker from his bedside table. Plopping in the recliner so he wouldn’t crowd his boyfriend settled on the couch, he waited impatiently while Evan’s phone linked to the device, barely containing his enthusiasm. Evan trusted him enough to reveal a part of himself he’d never shared with anyone, and he swore not to fuck it up.

“Okay, this one always makes me happy because it reminds me of someone, so ignore some of the lyrics after… y’know.” Connor nodded encouragingly. “Well, here goes,” Evan murmured, pressing play. The first twangy chords caught Connor off guard, but then a rich tenor sang the opening verses to _Beautiful Drug_ and he forgot how to breathe. Fiddling with the speaker, he adjusted the volume to fully appreciate Evan’s voice expanding in the room, filling the hollow corners with vivacity and light.

_“I got a death wish_

_His looks can kill_

_He's got a red shirt_

_Chapstick and boots_

_Pull me in_

_Get me hooked like a junkie_

_You got me feeling so high_

_You’re such a beautiful drug,_

_I can’t get enough_

_Addicted and I’m dying for a hit of your love_

_Got a death wish baby, baby_

_Don’t want you to save me, save me”_

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! Evan could sing, like honest to God, hold a tune without sounding flat. And he was singing to him, _about_ him. A pretty blush stained his cheeks, highlighting his twenty-six adorable freckles, literally singing Connor’s praises.

Halfway through the song, Evan was comfortable and confident, mentally thanking his boyfriend for convincing him to let loose. Connor’s stunned expression was worth the initial onset of stage fright. One of his favorite parts was coming up, and he wanted to see Connor’s reaction.

_“He lets his hair down_

_And all of mine stand up_

_Can’t help but stare now_

_Gotta feel that touch_

_His kiss, my fix, so sweet_

_Can't quit those lips are a habit to me_

_Sweet intoxication and I’m never getting sober”_

Jesus fucking Christ! Evan was purposely changing the words to make it even more obvious who the song was about, the little fucker. Was that the way he sang it when he was alone? Because the modified lyrics came a little too easily to be on the fly. Connor’s face flamed when he realized that was _exactly_ what it meant. Evan noticed his blush and smirked around the next verse. That subtle quirk should not have been so attractive, but it made Connor a little dizzy and he suddenly understood how nineteenth-century women felt before they swooned. Jesus, he was so fucking gone for him.

_“You’re such a beautiful drug_

_Can’t get enough_

_I’m addicted and dying for a hit of your love_

_I’m losing it, baby_

_Keep driving me crazy, crazy_

_Going out of my mind_

_Staring at you_

_Burning up in your fire that I’ve fallen into_

_Got a death wish baby, baby_

_Don't want you to save me, save me_

_Tonight”_

With a wide smile, Evan pulled Connor off the recliner to dance with him to the end of the song’s heavy instrumentals. Connor laughed in a daze, in awe of the boy bouncing happily around the room, carefree and wild and so fucking _alive._ Thank God, he was alive.

How did people not know about the goddamn perfection that was Evan Hansen? He should have never felt alone or invisible. He was a ball of sunshine, a breath of fresh air, the crisp sweetness of a harvest apple. Beautiful and bright with a heart of fucking gold. Why had it taken _him_ so long to grow a pair and talk to him? God, they could have had this years ago. Well, he’d just have to spend the rest of his life making up for the kisses they missed. What a horrible fate, indeed.

Tugging Evan close, panting and flushed as the song faded out, brought other memories to mind and Connor bit his lip. Another first Evan freely gave him - that they gave one another. There were no words in any language to accurately describe how much that meant to him.

“I love you,” Connor whispered. “That was incredible, Evan. You’re unbelievable. I’m so lucky.” Evan grinned, crinkling the corners of his eyes, mouth ready to respond. But Connor dove in for a kiss, choosing to taste the words instead of hearing them, which was a much better choice by far.

Connor knew this night would haunt them, they weren’t lucky enough to get off scot-free, but he promised in every slide of lips that he would be there to love him through it all. There would always be parts of their brains that didn’t believe what they had was real, pieces of them attempting to cast doubt on what they shared. Evan may be confident in Connor’s willingness to stay right now, but that could change tomorrow. They lived moment by moment, not merely day by day.

Connor moved his lips as soon as the words came to him, breathing against the shell of Evan’s ear. “Mon soleil, tu es l’élu de mon cœur. Amour de ma vie - sans toi, je ne suis rien. Plus que jamais, c’est toi; ce sera toujours toi.”

Evan gaped at him in wonder. “Why do I feel like that was important?”

Blushing, Connor ducked his head. “Maybe. It’s easier to be honest in French, sometimes. It flows better, y’know?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Evan agreed. “Oh, I know. It always sounds like music when you speak it.” He chuckled when Connor’s flush deepened. “Will you tell me what you said?”

The doorbell rang, and Connor grinned at the save. “Later, mon amour. Dinner’s here and I’m starving.”

“Fine,” Evan caved, playfully rolling his eyes. “Food first, then French.”

“Kissing? I agree,” Connor teased with a cocky wink. Rushing to answer the door to the miraculous sound of Evan’s laughter, the gnarled bush wrapped around his heart boasted roses stained crimson. Precious and fragrant, he intended to guarantee they bloomed for all time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies! I hope you enjoy Part 3. I have committed to NaNoWriMo (working on a new multichapter Treebros AU!) and probably won't have Part 4 up until that is wrapped up. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your kudos and comments! They give me life and keep me motivated to continue cranking out quality content for you guys. Let me know what you think of this one, too! I started writing it alongside Part 1, so it's been a long labor of love. ~~What is linear storytelling? I don’t know her.~~ The singing scene was originally in Part 2, but I moved it here to end things on a happy note. Also, I have taken liberties with what Evan's watch is capable of, but I don't care - this is my story and I do what I want!
> 
> See you guys on the next one! 💖


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